


Them

by Aniquant



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Light Angst, London, Other, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aniquant/pseuds/Aniquant
Summary: London, 1941. Anthony Crowley is just a man, war-worn and desperate, lost in his thoughts. Then something happens that changes everything.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Them

**Author's Note:**

> A small fic, inspired by the amazing artwork of Fem!Fallen Aziraphale by @demonicsimp!  
> Thank you so so much!

Anthony Crowley collapsed tiredly on a shaky bar chair. The chair was as shaky as the whole world around. London was torn apart by air attacks, almost all of it was turned into ruins. Broken windows, broken roads, wet traces of gasoline, blood, tears.

Crowley ordered a glass of calvados from the bartender and ducked into it, listening to his breath.There were people muttering and glass tinkling all around, military trucks rattling past outside. This world shattered like a mirror and you could no longer see anything in it, no one's reflection. Anthony lit a cigarette and took a drag.

Suddenly a soft voice sounded next to him. «Can I ask you for a cigarette?»

He turned around. There was someone sitting in the next chair... a girl? A vision? It was something so unreal that he could not believe his eyes at first. Vaguely, with the edge of his weary brain, Crowley noted that he hadn't felt them taking a seat next to him. 

“Excuse me?” They asked, leaning forward slightly. Crowley woke up and realized he was staring at them without moving. He recovered, handed them a cigarette and lit it.

They inhaled with pleasure, closing their eyes. Crowley stared at them again, unable to tear his gaze away. 

Were they...incredible? Brittle, glowing, flowing. Inexplicable. Ineffable? Golden hair framed the graceful face, the neat slightly upturned nose was covered with freckles. Dark gray eyes under long, thick eyelashes. Lips, blatantly beautiful, accentuated by black lipstick. 

The smudges of mascara under their eyes were barely visible, giving them a special charm. At some point they turned away and Anthony caught a glimpse of their sharp shoulder blades in the deep cutout on the back, on which flashed an intricate tattooed pattern. When they turned back, Crowley thought he had seen tears in their eyes.

They shook their head and asked cheerfully. “Why are you here?”

“There's nowhere else to go. The whole world is empty now. There is nothing left in it. Not a drop of warmth, of loving grace.”

“To hell with grace! It has long been out of fashion.” They grinned.

“What about you? Where did you come from?” Anthony asked, smiling.

They froze for a second, as if they were hurting somewhere inside.

“Ah, I’m from nowhere. There's no place like that anymore.”

Crowley nodded understandingly. They lit another cigarette and stopped the heavy gaze of their glistening dark eyes on him. 

“You smell like fire.” They said quietly.

He grinned. “Came under fire on the outskirts of the city.” 

“That's not what I mean. It's like there's a glimpse of light inside of you. A little passion, a ray of hope. _A thirst to live_ ”

Crowley smirked tiredly. “I don't feel it myself. Not anymore.”

“The war will be over soon.”

“What makes you think so? There's nothing looking like that...”

They leaned closer to him and stared intently with darkened eyes. “Because I know.”

For some reason, he did not find the strength to argue. There were stars twinkling in their eyes, space burning with icy flames in the depth. Or maybe it was just tears glistening in the dim light of the gas lamp. Crowley could not resist and slid a glance at their black lips. There was a sweet tug in his chest. Suddenly an explosion thundered somewhere in the next street, and they both shuddered and looked at each other in dismay. Their eyelashes trembled and they rubbed their cheek nervously against their bare shoulder in the loose collar of their dress. 

“You are too good for this war.” Anthony spoke softly, admiring the vision before him.

They winced, their whole body trembling, their lips quivering. 

“No." They whispered frantically, lowering their head. “No... Don't say that.”

Crowley grimly handed them a shot of the amber drink. They nodded appreciatively and took a sip. The apple flavor was like a reminder of something and tears welled up in their eyes again.

“I won't be here long.” They smiled at him briefly, not raising their eyes.

“Sorry.” He said quietly..

“Don't be sorry. You have so much ahead of you.”

He shook his head. “I wish I could disappear.”

“Why?”

“Nothing makes sense anymore. Only destruction. Everything I knew was destroyed. I am destroyed. It was all in vain. I'd rather be gone. Dissolve in the morning mist. Forget. Forgotten.”

They looked at him for a long time in silence, carefully extinguishing their cigarette on the ashtray. 

“You will stay.” They said suddenly, then slowly got up, staggering, and smiled bitterly. “You'll do fine.”

They nodded to him and turned on their heels. Without turning around, they waved a hand at him. “I'm taking this hell with me.”

“Wait, what’s your name?!” He heard no answer, just some rustling in his ears.

With a shaky gait, on slightly tangling slender legs, they headed for the exit. Crowley gazed at their narrow ankles, spellbound, until his gaze fell to the floor: there was a line of dark red streaks behind their shiny heels as if left by a soft brush. As if left by stained feathers.

He stared at it without blinking. And when he looked up at the closed door, he felt as if it became easier to breathe. As if his heart warmed and began to ache less. As if he suddenly found out that everything would work out. That he had a chance.

But... 

_I’m taking this hell with me._

...It was all about them. 

Someone who crashed your heart and pulled it together even better than it's been before. Someone you've never known, someone you'd never forget.


End file.
